


Thank You Baked Potato

by Burgie



Category: Star Stable Online
Genre: F/M, tw: drug mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-02
Updated: 2017-06-02
Packaged: 2018-11-08 00:07:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11069916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Burgie/pseuds/Burgie
Summary: Mrs Cloudmill helps Marley out with the annual Potato Spring Festival.





	Thank You Baked Potato

Mrs Cloudmill was already up and doing something in the kitchen when Marley got out of bed. This was the norm these days, ever since the woman had moved in.

“Good morning. You got up early,” said Marley.

“Yes, it’s a skill I honed over years of raising children,” said Mrs Cloudmill. She turned and smiled at him. “Good morning. I made you breakfast, buttered toast and coffee, just the way you like it.”

“Thank you,” said Marley, sitting down at the table so she could serve him. He had told her, many times, that he could get his own breakfast, but she always refused.

“So, what is on the agenda for the Summer farm today?” asked Mrs Cloudmill, sitting down opposite him with her own coffee. She’d already eaten her breakfast, though Marley hoped to someday be able to get up early enough to cook her a big fry-up for breakfast. “I saw Elvie go out to the potato field earlier.”

“Well, what do you know of the spring festivals in Jorvik?” asked Marley.

“Almost nothing,” said Mrs Cloudmill, looking down into her coffee. “I’ve lived in the city most of my life. I moved there for love, and now…” She shrugged.

“But you ended up getting the greatest love of all,” said Marley. “The love of family.” Mrs Cloudmill snorted.

“Some love,” she said. “My daughter is the only one who cares about me. Even my baby abandoned me, he took off for Fort Pinta when Alex went on a grand search to find her lost love. But the thing is that I had to convince her to go. She wanted to stay and help me, but I could see how much it was killing her to just sit at home doing nothing. So I encouraged her to go. I almost had to force her.” She chuckled at the memory, then took a sip of her coffee.

“Well, I don’t know anything about that,” said Marley. “Us Summers usually keep to ourselves, so I don’t know much of anything about the Soul Riders. Only that the mother of the warrior is as strong as an ox herself.” Mrs Cloudmill gave him a small smile.

“Thank you,” said Mrs Cloudmill. “You are the kindest man I’ve ever known.”

“A lady like you should be shown kindness, and respect,” said Marley. “Anyway, every spring, Jorvegians who live on farms celebrate the thawing of the frost with the traditional potato festival. We dig up the biggest potato that managed to survive the winter, and then we bake it into the most delicious baked potato you’ve ever tasted. Then, the young riders compete to get the best time in planting more potatoes.”

“That sounds wonderful,” said Mrs Cloudmill. “I’m sure my daughter would love to do that if she wasn’t so busy.”

“Well, would you like to help me out?” asked Marley. He knew that she would offer to help anyway, she was just that kind of woman.

“Of course. What do you need help with?” asked Mrs Cloudmill.

“Well, I’m going to put up a few stands so that people can bake their potatoes,” said Marley. “We need one stand for the ingredients, and one for the cooking.”

“Where should we set them up?” asked Mrs Cloudmill, quickly finishing off her coffee. “Over by the horses? In the jumping paddock?”

“No, I am worried that all the noise and smells and people will upset the horses,” said Marley. “And if I set up in the jumping paddock, people will be upset that they can’t compete in it.”

“That sounds fair,” said Mrs Cloudmill, nodding. “Where, then?”

“I usually set up over near the shop,” said Marley. “I’ll just finish my breakfast, and then I’ll show you where to set up.”

Just as he’d expected, Mrs Cloudmill offered to drag the tables over herself. Marley let her do this, knowing that she would only be upset if he didn’t let her help. He pulled the oven over in the meantime, setting it up.

Mrs Cloudmill also helped him with creating the rest of the stands, tying the thin sticks together and setting them up. Then, she rode up to order some freshly-churned butter from Derek.

“And now, all we have to do is wait,” said Marley once it was all done. “Everyone loves the potato festival, you’ll see.”

“I’m sure,” said Mrs Cloudmill with a smile. The woman never used to smile, but she was doing it an awful lot around him. Marley was glad to see it, and he knew that Alex would be glad too.

Sure enough, around lunchtime, the riders began to trickle into Marley’s farm and head straight for the man in charge. Mrs Cloudmill hung back, ready to clean up any spills and apply first aid to any burns. And there would be burns, because some of these riders looked quite young. When the first potato was baked, Marley called her over.

“Come and taste this,” he said, waving her over. Mrs Cloudmill walked over, feeling awkward around all of these younger riders. Some of them were staring at her, and she knew that many were judging. But at least she no longer had track marks on her arms. At least her skin was unmarred by anything other than a tattoo. At least she looked healthier, and her posture was better.

“This looks and smells delicious,” said Mrs Cloudmill, looking down at the potato swimming in sage and butter.

“And it tastes even better,” said Marley. He held a fork out to her. “Go on, try a bite.”

Mrs Cloudmill stabbed a piece of potato, blew on it to cool it, and popped it into her mouth. She was amazed by the taste, and had to stop herself from gasping so that she wouldn’t inhale the buttery, potatoe-y goodness.

“Good, isn’t it?” said Marley. Mrs Cloudmill nodded, chewing and swallowing the delicious mouthful.

“I’ve never had anything so delicious before,” said Mrs Cloudmill. It seemed to warm her up, too, spreading warmth all through her.

That evening, after the last riders had left and the sun was turning everything golden-orange, Mrs Cloudmill sat down in the kitchen with Marley to enjoy their very own baked potato.

“I’ve never made something this good before,” said Mrs Cloudmill after eating a few bites. “I guess nobody can go wrong with your recipe.”

“Well, I beg to differ. You made five beautiful children,” said Marley. Mrs Cloudmill blushed, looking back down at her half of the potato.

“They’re not perfect,” said Mrs Cloudmill.

“Nobody is,” said Marley. “And yet, they wouldn’t have turned out quite so well if you hadn’t raised them. They’re alive. One of your sons owns a tourist town, and a very popular one at that. Your daughter is one of the legendary heroes.” Mrs Cloudmill smiled, poking at her potato with her fork.

“Thank you,” said Mrs Cloudmill. “If only all men were like you, Marley.”

“The world needs kind, gentle souls,” said Marley. “And other kind, gentle souls to protect and guide them.”

Mrs Cloudmill was smiling so much that she could barely eat, and her heart was so full that swallowing was difficult. She’d sworn off men after her first husband had left her with nothing. They were all bad, she’d thought. But maybe… maybe she’d been wrong to swear off men altogether. After all, there were some nice ones. One was sitting right across from her. Maybe, just this once, she could open her heart to someone again. Just as long as he kept cherishing her, and reassuring her, and giving her the love that she so desperately needed. And she knew that he would give her that, whether she wanted it or not. So maybe it was time to stop denying herself love and happiness. Even if love could hurt, as she’d felt the pain herself and seen the pain hurt her daughter so much. But love could be wonderful, too.

“Thank you, baked potato,” said Mrs Cloudmill, raising her eyes to look at Marley. Marley grinned at her. And he definitely wasn’t conventionally handsome, but she’d learned that the handsome ones could be the most dangerous. And his heart was so good and pure. It was what was on the inside that counted, after all.


End file.
